Before Breakfast
by pab99
Summary: Harry finds a comfort unlike one he can experience anywhere else but theres more to her than meets the eye...


**Before Breakfast**

It was odd, he thought, this unspoken agreement they had someway forged. Then again, he acknowledged with a small smile, everything about her was a little odd. She was sitting as she usually did; legs slowly swinging, eyes shut, wand behind ear, quietly humming "Weasley is our king". He wondered if she realised that these few moments he spent with her everyday were those that he enjoyed the most.

Often they would not speak. The silence to him was precious- it was wonderful to be away from worried stares and hushed conversations. He felt strangely drawn to her; it was as if she gave him a comfort that he could find nowhere else. Sometimes he felt like she understood him better than anyone; that she could sense what he was feeling without him saying a word.

He felt alive up here. It soothed him to know that he could jump and it would all be over, not that he ever would, but that feeling offered him the illusion of control in his life, something he had longed for for as long as he could remember.

"Everyone has choices" she said rather distractedly.

"Do they?" he asked earnestly, quite surprised by the way she had yet again been able to read his mind.

She turned around to face him, her expression serious.

"Of course"

He sighed.

"I wish I could believe you" he said sadly, averting his gaze from her unblinking silver eyes. She thought for a moment.

"Sometimes it does people good to believe in things they can't see"

"Like what? Crumple horned snorklets?" He questioned, instantly regretting his harsh tone. She didn't realise his sarcasm, or if she did she failed to acknowledge it.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, of course you can **see** crumple horned snorklets!" she replied indignantly.

In spite of himself, he couldn't help but grin.

She returned to staring at the horizon.

"These are troubled times Harry, but there are shades of grey. Life is not just black and white, love or hate… live or _die_."

She looked back at him, her eyes brimming with tears,

"You must try to understand that".

He had never seen her cry before, and he realised it was almost as if he assumed that she couldn't, that the fact that she was different made her immune somehow. And now here she was with her eyes closed again, a tear running down her cheek, sighing as a gentle breeze touched her face. Without really knowing why he reached out his hand and laid it over hers, feeling a funny jolt in his stomach as his arm brushed against hers. Her skin was much softer then he imagined.

They sat for a while, neither moving, watching as the sun danced on the surface of the lake. He knew it wouldn't be long before they'd have to go to breakfast. There was so much he wanted to tell her; the prophecy, Neville, Sirus, things he couldn't talk about with anyone else, but now was not the time.

"I'm not hungry" she almost whispered "but you should--"

"Me either" he interrupted moving closer to her, so that the top of their legs were touching. So close that he could smell her hair (an odd mix of radishes and butterbeer, but strangely appealing). Their hands were lying in his lap; and he felt his neck flush as it slowly dawned on him that her hand was gently resting against the top of his thigh. He began taking long deep breaths in an attempt to avoid the embarrassment of the inevitable. She, of course, was oblivious.

"Errr…Luna… could you…err" Sweat ran down his brow and he could feel his face turning bright red, as he awkwardly tried to shift the position of his legs.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, her eyes widened in panic "You look awful! Are you OK?"

She immediately unclasped her hand from his and pressed it against his forehead.

"Have you been bit by anything? The Nibulous Whizlet's are everywhere this time of year, a single bite can bring on palpitations which lead to semi-paralysis," She scanned over him worriedly "You need to get to Madam Pomfry, quick before the paralysis sets in!"

She grabbed his hands and attempted to pull him up. He grinned back at her.

"Luna I'm fine, honestly"

"You say that now but in five minutes time you won't be able to move your left side."

He laughed. He _actually_ laughed- not strained fake laughter, but true genuine laughter that he hadn't laughed since, since before that night at the department of mysteries.

"Harry this is not a laughing matter" she said, alarm in her voice rising.

He stood up opposite her, trying, but failing miserably, to suppress his amusement.

"I wasn't bit. Honestly. I just felt a bit hot that's all"

She narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down.

He held out is arms and moved them about "Look, no bites, no paralysis".

Without warning she grabbed one of his left arm and inspected it for the elusive "bite", her face centimetres away from his skin. She ran a finger up and down his forearm and then, just to be sure, turned it over and did the same. Once she was sure there was no trace of a bite she grabbed his right arm and performed the same ritual.

"Don't move" she said as she walked behind him, and, on her tip toes began checking the nape of his neck. Remaining composed was a nightmare; he was trying extremely hard not to notice the fact that he could feel her breath on the back of his neck, nor her fingers softly skimming over his exposed skin. He positioned his hands in front of his trouser zip and concentrated on breathing. Seemingly satisfied she walked back round to face him.

"Done?" he questioned tentatively, relieved but disappointed she wasn't touching him.

"I haven't checked your face yet"

He gulped. "Do you really have to?"

"Yes"

She reached up and removed his glasses, setting them down next to his cloak that he'd left on the floor when he first arrived. She moved closer to him, very close, he hadn't been this close to a girl since Cho. Her nose was practically touching his, her lips mere centimetres from his. She bought her hand up his face, running a finger down his cheek and across his lips, resting it on his chin. He tilted his head slightly. She leaned in, parting her lips.

"Looks like you're very lucky, Dinglet's are infamous for facial bites" she said in her usual dreamy tone, her breath against his cheek, making his lips tingle. With that, she stepped away from him and busied herself gathering her cloak and hat.

He thought for a moment, "I thought you said they were Nibulous Whizlet's"

"Did I?" She smiled mysteriously and threw her cloak over her shoulders. "I have to go now. Goodbye Harry."

She turned around and walked away. His jaw dropped in amazement and confusion- had she made up the thing about the Whizlets bite just so that she could touch him? His head spun with questions, questions that would probably someday be answered. But meanwhile he guessed she was right, sometimes it does do people good to believe in things they can't see.


End file.
